Our Lives are Fractions of a Whole
by heymamawolf
Summary: A series of one-shots wherein I transform an established relationship between Puck and Rachel into a giant romantic comedy. Potentially cavity-inducing fluff ahead: consider yourselves warned.
1. In the Stacks

**Summary: **Puck and Rachel as an established couple. When I get bored, I write these? IDEK. Even though these are all independent, unrelated drabbles/ficlets, I'm re-posting them here together since they're technically in the same "universe." To play it safe, I'd say these are R for language and allusions to other promiscuities.

**Oblig Disclaimer: **I'm uncreative and stole the title for this series from the Bright Eyes song _Bowl of Oranges. _Oh and obvs stole the characters from Ryan Murphy & pals, so, yeah, also not mine.

---

**In the Stacks**

---

When her backpack buzzes for the twelfth time in two minutes, she slams her textbook shut, pulls her cell phone out and snaps it open in a huff.

"_What_ do you _want_?" She's angry and exasperated and _doesn't have time for this_ because she has two exams and a ballet performance tomorrow, but he's like a horsefly that keeps buzzing in your face no matter how many times you swat it away.

"B-Sizzle. You and me behind the bleachers in ten. Leave your skirt, you won't need it."

Her eyes narrow and her jaw clenches as she leans forward in her cubicle.

"When someone doesn't pick up their phone, it typically means they _don't want to talk to you_."

"Berry, you can't lie for shit, so stop trying."

"Hanging up now."

-

Ten minutes later, there's a big commotion in the common area and she can hear it even through the supposedly soundproof double doors separating her silent academic fortress from the rest of the library. She thinks about getting up and seeing for herself what all the fuss is about, but she has exactly 77 minutes until Glee and 120 math problems to do, so instead she takes a deep breath and focuses on the formulas in front of her.

"Why do you people find this so hard to believe? _I actually read books and shit, okay?_ I ain't no one-trick pony. And you know what? I do my homework too, so suck it."

She bangs her head against her desk, because _honest to God, that voice is the bane of her existence_.

"Later bitches, I'm gonna go get my _learning_ on in this back area place with all that...Stuff..."

She drags her eyes up from her page as the door swings shut and his heavy footfalls make their way down the hall.

"Shit man, it's like I just fell down the rabbit hole," he's talking to himself in a sort of hushed reverence as he looks around, treading slowly through uncharted territory. "This place is like the fucking Matrix." He passes by a poster with a message printed in bold red letters (SILENCE IS GOLDEN) and without giving it a single glance, he hooks a left.

"Yo Queen B. Where you at?" She ducks her head down and holds her breath. She's in the back of the room, after all, maybe he won't find her and will just go back to harassing the Varsity soccer team before their big game. She closes her eyes and scrunches her face, determined to make this hideous excuse of a boy disappear.

"_I KNOW KUNG FU_."

His voice rumbles against her ear and she shrieks, nearly jumping out of her chair. She spins around and punches him in the shoulder and he clutches his sides, laughing hysterically. She keeps throwing punches, her face beet red, so he takes her tiny fists in his hands and grins down at her salaciously.

"You realize this is a library, right?" She chastises him in a low whisper and he just rolls his eyes. "These things around us are _books_. And since reading can be hard for you, those signs say _no talking_."

"Thanks for the heads up, Granny-Panties," he crosses his arms over his chest, not bothering to lower his voice at all, "but I actually know how to read, I just choose not to."

"And lemme guess, you also know how to be quiet, but you just choose not to?"

"Bingo."

-

"C'mon, just ten minutes."  
"Other people will hear—"  
"Babe, you're the only one back here."  
"Noah, I don't think you realize exactly how much work I have to—"  
"I'll recharge your batteries. Rev your geometry engines."  
"What if someone catches us—"  
"We'll invite them to join in."  
"You're such a pig."

She laughs and he knows he's in.

-

He tries to slow her down but she's mumbling things about complementary angles and pirouettes and in any other situation he'd think she'd lost it but her voice is all low and throaty and he's basically having sex with her against volumes of Keats and Wordsworth.

_Bards of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth!_

-

When she hears the door swing open again, she pushes him away with a gasp. His head is a daze, her skirt is bunched around her thighs, and in one swift move, she throws her sweater on (it doesn't matter that it's inside out and backwards, _at least it's on_) and lunges towards her seat. He turns to the books on the shelves, trying his best to ignore his jeans' sudden tightness.

When Mrs. Sullivan quietly rolls her cart of books away, he feels Rachel's arms snake around his waist. He turns and takes her head in his hands, grinning like the smug bastard he is.

Turns out books weren't a complete waste of trees after all.

---


	2. In the Music Room

My homegirl, **une_fille**, put in a request for a piece where Mr. Shue walks in on Puck and Rachel in a compromising position to which I say: ask and ye shall receive.

---

**In the Music Room**

---

"Mr. Shue, I swear this is totally not what it looks like."

He's frozen to the spot, aghast at the sight before him. Rachel's boyfriend in his boxers with her in his lap, her hands pressed against his chest and his under her shirt.

"No, Rachel, I'm pretty sure this is _exactly_ what it looks like."

-

It totally was.

See, Puck told her that they should go to the gym 'cause no one was ever around this time of day except Willie the groundskeeper, who always had his back anyway. But she was all, _no, no, no, let's go to the music room_. Now, if there was one thing he learned dating Rachel Berry, it was that nothing (and he means _nothing_) turned her on like those red plastic chairs. At first he thought it was because she still had a thing for Mr. S and he was just peeling back all her layers of cray-cray, but no. It was just that music gave her lady boners like nothing else in this world, so much so that just being in its presence lit her fire. So he laughed (_Whatever you say, baby_) and he let her drag him into the room and drop his pants, unbutton his shirt and sit him down in a chair. She was rattling on about getting an A on her term paper on _A Farewell to Arms_ and some shit Baz Luhrmann announced, but all Puck registered was that she was all giggles so today must've been a good day. Yeah, he was kinda confused (when was he _not_?) but he just chalked it up to God rewarding him for being a good Jew this year and didn't think twice about why Berry was being so…Un-Berry-like.

He was really starting to appreciate how it felt to be the one with no clothes on for once when—

_Buenos Nachos, Mr. Shue. Did anyone tell you your hair's rockin' some serious volume today?_

-

She clambers off Puck and straightens her clothes, and he's laughing to himself because he would have expected her to get all embarrassed and rambly, but she's getting so worked up over this and refuses to go down without a fight.

"Okay, seriously, Mr. Shue, I don't want you to get the wrong impression here. Noah and I were just…We were just…"

She looks back at Puck and he shoots her a _you're on your own, babe_ look and Mr. Shue waits expectantly for her answer. Suddenly, something clicks and she turns back to him in a whirl, her face contorted in a frown. She sniffles and makes miraculous tears fall from her eyes.

"Noah made me do it!"

"Say _what_?!" Puck almost has his pants on when he drops them in shock.

"He told me—He told me—Oh Mr. Shue, it's just too awful. Really, do I look like a girl who'd willfully take part in such lascivious, vulgar acts on school grounds? Let alone in the most sacred of all classrooms?"

"Bitch, _please_!"

-

Opposed to popular belief, Puck wasn't always the horny teenage boy of this relationship. And today he didn't even want to ditch lunch for this glorious quickie! It was fuckin' Mexican food day at the cafeteria and his boys finally convinced Finn to chug two vats of Miss Pam's Special Sauce. But then Rachel showed up with her flirty little eyes and roaming hands saying she had a "surprise" for him and dude, he was pretty sure there was no pantylines to be seen on that hiney. Smooth for miles.

And that's when a voice deep in his soul spoke to him:

DROP THAT FUCKIN' QUESADILLA, PUCKERMAN. THIS IS HOW ALL THE BEST PORNOS START.

-

"Mr. Shue, you _know_ Berry's high on crazy. There's no chance in hell I'd ever force her to do _anything_…We're _dating_ for godssake! And don't believe those knee-high socks, that girl is _way freakier_ than she seems— Shit man, do you really think I would have to _force_ anyone to get it on with the Puckerone? Girls _beg_ me to give it to 'em—"

"ENOUGH, PUCKERMAN. I'm not an idiot, I know Rachel was lying back there."

"Okay, phew, I was kinda worried because you looked—"

"And that's exactly why I called you in here. When you and Rachel became a couple, of course we all found it a bit bizarre, but I thought maybe it'd be good for the both of you. Now I see that all you've done is corrupt an otherwise innocent young girl—"

"Wait…_I'm_ the one who's doing the corrupting?"

"Puck, your bad habits are obviously rubbing off on Rachel—"

"_Rubbing off on Berry_? If anyone's the victim here, it's obviously me. Barrell-'o-Crazy over there made me watch not _one_, not _two_, but _three_ different versions of that shitshow _Chicago_ this weekend. _Back-to-back-to-back._ After that, can you blame me for wanting to make sure my junk still worked?"

-

"Ms. Pillsbury, I don't understand why you're making me—"

"Rachel, if you and Puck are having sex I just want to make sure you understand—"

"Excuse me, but I was _coerced_! You should be giving this information to the illiterate brute who tried to have his way with me. Just make sure the pamphlets are illustrated, he can't handle letters."

"If you actually expect me to believe that your boyfriend forced you to…_you know_…with him during lunch hour on _Quesadilla Wednesday_, of all days, you are sorely mistaken."

Ms. Pillsbury reached into her desk and pulled one last pamphlet out (_SAFE SEX: how to protect yourself_) and placed it front of Rachel. She stared at it for a split second before bursting into laughter.

"Oh don't you worry, Ms. Pillsbury, no little swimmers will be making their way up this birth canal any time soon. I've made it perfectly clear that Rachel Berry will not be having children until she's won three Tonys, starred in her own original production, and is in a long-term, steady relationship with a Mohawk-less man who has a career path that does not include becoming an ultimate fighting champion."

-

They get a week's worth of morning detentions, but Shue has mercy on Rachel and lets her stay on the Glee club roster for their performance that weekend. Puck, on the other hand, is not so lucky.

"I must admit, I'm astounded by how hard you're taking this, Noah. You always make such a production of how the only reason you're still in Glee is to, quote _pick some Berrys_."

"Dude, I don't give a shit about Glee. All I'm saying is you don't just hang your man out to dry like that, B. That shit ain't right."

"I thought you'd be proud, with all the lying and what not."

"You clearly need a lesson in loyalty. We're watching _Band of Brothers_ tonight whether you like it or not."

"Wait! I'm pretty sure they made that into a musical!"

_Fuck._

---


	3. In the Living Room

According to **honeyprose** and **une_fille**, Sarah's canon now? So mucho gracias to **dress without sleeves** for dreaming her up.

---

**In the Living Room**

_i'll tell you something true  
the bare necessities of life will come to you!_

---

"Noahhhhhhhhhh. Can you puh-_lease_ fix the DVD player?"

"Shit, Sarah, what do I look like? The fucking Geek Squad? Fix it yourself."

"Mom said I'm not allowed to touch that stuff."

"All you have to do is grab a screwdriver and shove it into the socket--"

"_Noahhhhhhhhhh._"

"Seriously, twerp, if you say my name one more time--"

"I'm gonna call Mom--" She reaches for the phone and Puck snatches it out of her hand.

"God, why do you have to such a little bitch all the time?"

He rolls his eyes when she starts crying, but when he's pretty sure those are real tears rolling down her cheeks, he actually starts feeling kind of bad.

"...I'm sorry, okay? Shit, Sarah, please just dont--I'm _sorry_." He's kneeling in front of her and she's wiping her tears sloppily with the back of her hand.

"Y'know, Gina's big brother isn't mean to _her_--"

"That's 'cause Gina's big brother is actually her big sister. Listen, just wait 'til Mom comes home and she'll take care of your stupid DVD player, okay? Berry's coming over--"

"I was gonna watch _The Jungle Book_." She looks up at him, a manipulative glint in her eye. "Your favorite."

He stares at her for a long moment, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"_Fine_, but I'm doing this for Mowgli, _not for you_."

-

When Mrs. Puckerman lets Rachel in, she walks in on him and Sarah dancing around the living room singing _The Bare Necessities_, and she remembers why she puts up with his noogies and gross, sweaty boy smells. She catches his eye and grins.

"Get your ass over here, Berry, you're missing the best part."

---


	4. In the Janitor's Closet

**In the Janitor's Closet**

---

"I don't get why you're so upset over this. She seems really happy."

"The soccer team is just a bunch of pretentious pricks who pretend that people actually care about their stupid-ass sport." Puck rolls his eyes and Finn just sighs. "I swear, dude, if it were anyone else, I wouldn't give a shit. But a fucking _soccer player_? Come on."

"So you're telling me that if Rachel were dating, like, I don't know, Joey Henderson or something, you really wouldn't care?"

"Okay, Joey Henderson wears _velcro shoes_. Bro, you're not getting my point," Puck leans forward intently, resting his elbows on his knees, "all I'm saying is the girl doesn't know shit about dudes. I could care less who she gets her mack on with, she just needs to know what she's getting herself into."

Finn stares at him for a long second, his eyes narrow. "You do realize that you guys broke up, right? As in, are no longer together?"

"Yeah, and?"

"And this," Finn motions animatedly to the space between the two of them, "is fucking weird, okay! It's like you're from the Twilight Zone or something."

"What the hell are you trying to say, Hudson?"

"I'm saying maybe you should just apologize to her and get back together."

"_What_? Fuck no."

"You're clearly—"

"I'm clearly _what_? And you better choose your words carefully, Big Boy." Puck shoots him the most menacing glare he can muster and Finn just rolls his eyes.

"You're clearly crazy about her okay? Sure, you and Rach came out of left field, but it worked, in a weird opposites-attract, salty-and-sweet kinda way."

Puck stares at Finn for a long beat, his mouth hanging open until he stands abruptly and stalks away.

"Dude, I gotta go call Hummel 'cause that was the legit gayest thing you have ever said to me."

-

When Puck comes into Glee next day, Rachel ignores him altogether and keeps eagerly telling Tina and Kurt all about her first date with McKinley's most-recent transfer student (and douchebag extraordinaire, Puck's sure) Blake Bloomberg. He takes a seat as far away from her as he can but she's projecting (on purpose) and he can hear every detail with perfect clarity. He tells himself he doesn't care as he hears all about how Blake picked her up in his Audi ("Yes, his family is _extremely_ well-off, as I'm sure you've noticed from his impeccable taste in Burberry.") and how her dads adore him; how they shared a tiramisu for dessert at the best Italian restaurant in town and he told her all about his dreams of becoming a neurosurgeon and finding a beautiful, down-to-Earth ("Wait, you? _Down-to-Earth_?" "Just because I'm driven doesn't make me unapproachable.") Jewish girl to discover the true meaning of happiness. When she finishes, Puck snorts and leans back in his chair smugly.

"Did he tell you he loves Dolphins, too? And that _shh, don't tell anyone_ but he secretly loves _The Notebook_?" Rachel shoots him a death glare, her jaw clenched and her eyes seething. "Jesus, Berry, just fall for every trick in the book, why don't you?"

"I'll have you know, _Puck_, that Ryan Gosling is actually Blake's favorite actor."

At that, Puck bursts out laughing, and Kurt's eyes brighten.

"Shit, I was gonna say that he was lying to get into your pants, but you are totally this dude's beard."

Rachel frowns and turns to Kurt, who gives her an unsympathetic smile, "all signs point to yes."

-

Turns out Blake Bloomberg isn't gay. In fact, he's _far from it_. It takes Puck exactly five minutes with Santana to find out how far from gay the dude actually is before he loses it, and charges into the cafeteria, cornering Finn at his lunch table.

"All I need you to do is run some recon for me, okay?"

"Seriously, man, why do you have to drag me into this shit? I'm just trying to eat my Sloppy Joe in peace, not got tangled up in some ridiculous Rachel-related drama."

"Dude, who was the one who found you and took you home that time you got lost in the woods looking for a Port-a-Potty?"

"I know, and that was really awesome of you, but—"

"And who made out with Shirley Parker's tubby best friend so you could finally make a move?"

"Yeah, I know, but—"

"You owe me, bro, that's all I'm saying."

"Why can't you just do it yourself?"

"Listen, Berry told me she'd slap a restraining order on me if I got within ten feet of the douchebag, and man, I know when the chick's lying and she was _not_ messing around."

Finn takes a slow bite of his Sloppy Joe and chews it distastefully as Puck stares at him like he's his last hope. After a long moment, Finn shakes his head and sighs.

"Okay fine, but she's totally gonna see right through it."

"What? Why?"

"Dude, the only time I ever see Rachel is either during Glee or when you're there. She's gonna think it's fishy that I'm suddenly hanging around her again."

"Shut up, you guys were like butt buddies all last semester, going to the fucking mall and calling each other special and shit."

"Yeah, and you may not have realized it, but I dated her for a week after that and we ended things _kinda weirdly_..."

"Listen dude, I really don't give a fuck. Just make sure you don't get all googly-eyed over her again 'cause I don't have the time to deal with that shit _and_ this asshole sniffing around my girl."

-

Finn decides if he's gonna go undercover, he might as well do it right, so they take a cowboy hat from the music room and Puck steals him a fake handlebar mustache from the costume shop down the street. Finn gets really into it and Puck is pretty convinced this kid might be legitimately mentally impaired, but shit's hilarious and he knows no matter how pissed Rachel gets, she'll think so too.

Finn's first mission is to tail Blake and Rachel at the movies Friday night. He sits two rows behind them, wears a trenchcoat and everything. When the Chipmunks take the screen and the movie starts, he pulls out a notepad and pencil and starts scribbling notes under his coat. He thinks things are going pretty well until he starts to hear people talking behind him.

"Is that freak touching himself? No, really, I think that perv is actually touching himself!"

He quickly puts his notepad away and ducks in his seat but he keeps hearing the word "pedophile" and whispers about this being a kids movie, and suddenly, it's too late. Everyone in the theater is looking in his direction, so he quickly gets up and runs out as a couple of irate parents scream after him, "we got your profile, buddy, you're going down!"

When Puck sees him running, he calls after him. "Yo, _what the fuck did you do_?"

"Just shut up and run, Puckerman!"

-

It doesn't take long for Rachel to catch on to what Finn's up to (and honestly, Puck's hair-brained scheme as well) but instead of blowing her top, she throws them both for a loop and invites Finn to hang out with her and Blake after school, and even to volunteer with them at his synagogue over the weekend. Finn asks Puck if he'll get to spin a dreidel ("No dumbass, it's fucking _March_.") but the second the Jew card comes into play, Puck really starts to worry. A week later, he texts Finn and tells him to meet him at the AV room fourth period. He's planned a whole strategy session to plot the demise of Blake "Frosted Tips" Bloomberg, all he needs is the info Finn was able to dig up during his time in deep cover to set it in motion.

"Alright man, what'd you get?"

"Dude, all I gotta say is if I were Rach, I'd let him go as far as he wanted, no dinner and movie necessary."

"Hudson, if you tell me you're gay for this dickweed—"

"Not _gay_, per se…"

"_Fuck_."

Finn starts laughing and getting that kid in a candy shop grin and Puck knows he's screwed.

"Can you blame me? This kid…Okay, for starters, he's getting recruited by a_ European soccer league_. Can you believe that?"

"Fuck Europe. Last time I checked we live in the _United States of America_. Home of the fucking _brave_."

"And he's actually really good. Rachel took me to one of his club games—"

"She took you fucking _where_?"

"Yeah, and after we had dinner with his family—"

"She actually _ate food_ with his _mom and dad_?"

"Yeah man, and his little sister is adorable…Totally reminded me of Sarah except he, like, let her ride on his back and stuff." Finn starts laughing and Puck is _this close_ to throwing him out the third floor window. "Shit was seriously _so cute_."

"Hudson, what are you saying?"

All of a sudden, Finn gets serious and rolls his chair closer.

"Puck…I gave them my blessings."

"_What_? Dude, I thought we were _bros_."

"Rachel's my friend too, man, and she deserves someone who doesn't make her leave through the window at the end of the night."

"Did you talk to her about me? That's seriously fucked up." Puck shakes his head and starts pacing around the room, running a worried hand over his mohawk.

"Rachel's a_ great girl_, and she deserves a great guy. And dude, you're _not_ a great guy."

Puck rolls his eyes and kicks Finn's chair.

"Fuck this shit. Next time you need a wing-man, count me _out_."

As Puck storms off, Finn calls out a happy, _Mazel Tov_! Without turning around, Puck raises his hand and flips his best friend the bird.

-

"You win, Berry, okay? You fucking win."

Rachel closes her locker door to see Puck leaning on the one next to hers. She raises her chin and stares at him dispassionately. "I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about, _Puck_."

"Enough with this Puck shit, okay?" She starts making her way down the hall and he quickly falls in stride.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought that was the name you preferred to go by."

Puck chuckles to himself before sideswiping her and pushing her towards the nearest janitor's closet.

"Excuse me, _but what do you think_—"

He closes the door behind them and swiftly bolts it. "Alright, Berry, enough with this Ice Queen act. I'm trying to actually have a conversation with you."

Rachel tilts her head and looks around at their surroundings, feigning confusion. "Oh really? That's funny because I can't remember us having a single_ conversation_ in this particular place." She shakes her head and holds her hands up, keeping him at a distance. "Listen, if you think you can just pull me into broom closets and have your way with me, that's not how the real world works."

"I wasn't—"

"I am dating someone now, thank you very much, and we are—" When she looks up at Puck, something in her voice cracks. "We are—"

"Spit it out, Berry," he says with a low voice, his eyes firmly on hers.

"We're happy." She says slowly.

He laughs and his face softens as he takes a step closer and his hands wander towards her. "This is me waving the white flag, okay? Forget about that asshat—"

"Excuse me, but you know absolutely nothing about…" She drifts off as he pulls her towards him. Her hands settle on his chest and slowly make their way around his neck. "Really, Noah, if you think I'm just going to forgive you—"

"I'm sorry, B." He brushes her hair out of her face and takes her head in his hands. "You were right, I was asshole. But to be fair, if you told me being in an actual fucking relationship meant you wanted me to stick around and make sure other guys don't mack on you then I would've been down with that."

"You're an idiot."

"_You worded it wrong_!"

-

"Puck said he had what for me?"

Blake looks genuinely confused as he makes his way down the hall with a bright and cheerful Finn.

"Just trust me, okay? He told me that I should bring you by here at 2:50 exactly because he had a present for you."

"Um, this is a _janitor's closet_."

"I know, I know. Really, you just gotta trust me on this one."

"Are you sure, dude? I'm pretty sure Puck hates my guts."

"He just takes a little time getting used to new people. I promise, he's actually pretty cool when you get to know him."

When Finn reaches for the door and swings it open, his expression quickly transforms into a frown, and Blake's jaw drops. Puck turns around, his shirt no where to be found, a grin plastered to his face, and Rachel behind him.

"Surprise!"

Rachel gasps and quickly pushes him away before calling Blake's name and scurrying after him, leaving Puck clutching his sides in laughter and Finn shaking his head at him in disapproval. When he finally gets his shirt on, he looks up at Finn and smiles.

"Dude, what?"

"You lied to me, bro. You told me you got him a _no hard feelings_ gift!"

Puck comes out, and puts a sympathetic arm across Finn's shoulders, leading him into the small space. "I totally did, it's just over there…"

When Finn gets in the closet, Puck closes the door quickly and locks it with a cackle.

"Every. Fucking. Time." He calls out as he walks down the hall.

"PUCK, YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?" Finn shouts from behind the door, and Puck just keeps walking.

"Trust me, dude, I know!"

---


	5. In the Parking Lot

Valentine's Day, stuffed seahorses, and tuxedo T-shirts. IDEK, guys.

---

**In The Parking Lot**

---

She opens her locker and a stuffed seahorse falls out with a High School Musical valentine pinned to its chest.

"What on Earth—" When she reaches down for the aquamarine plush, she smiles dreamily, butterflies rising in her stomach. Her eyes linger on Zac Efron's smiling face before she reads the generic sappy message and sighs.

And then she sees who it's from.

The name Julie, written in loopy, ten year-old writing has been haphazardly crossed out by black ball point pen and in its place is a sloppy "B-Sizzle." By the bold, red _With Love_, her not-so-secret admirer scribbled a messy "PUCKERONE" in big block letters over his little sister's name. Rachel rolls her eyes and flips the valentine over to read his message.

_ROSES ARE RED  
VIOLETS ARE BLUE  
STOP BEING STUPID  
I'M THE BEST YOU CAN DO_

In a huff, she shoves the seahorse in her bag and charges through the hall, intent on returning a gift she never asked for and certainly does not intend to keep.

---

"I thought I made it clear that we're over."

"Yeah, so?"

"So why am I finding little surprises in my locker with your chicken scratch all over it?" She holds the stuffed animal out to him. "And for the record, I'm sure Sarah was _not happy_ you stole one of her valentines."

"Dude, I thought girls eat this shit up."

"Noah, I broke up with you _last Wednesday_."

"Berry, you break up with me _every Wednesday_."

"Yeah, well, I meant it this time, okay? So please, don't go around buying adorable seahorses for me and writing imbecilic love notes." She thrusts the plush toy towards him again, and he just stares at her.

"Whoa. Who the fuck said anything about love?"

"I can't accept this."

"Shut up, B." He pushes her hand back to her chest and rolls his eyes. "You know you love this shit, so just add it to your retarded collection and call it a day."

She crosses her arms and stares at him, her eyes narrow. "You think you're so charming don't you?"

He puckers his lips and gives her his trademark head nod. "Yeah, it's a gift."

"Noah, I've had enough of your childish antics." She throws her hands up in a dramatic flourish and when she points a warning finger in his face, he tosses his head back like _here we go again_. "I'll have you know I've officially found myself a _real gentleman_ who actually knows how women should be treated."

"Fuck, Berry, I swear if you're back to pinning Hudson's face to your blow-up doll—"

"Excuse me, but I actually have a _date_ tonight."

"Wait—_What_?"

"I have a date. A very romantic one, in fact, at a restaurant and everything."

"Wha—it's fucking _Valentine's Day_."

"And your point is…?"

"What fucktard would plan a first date on _Valentine's Day_?"

"Who said it was my first?"

He stares at her incredulous, and she just shoots him a devious grin as she pulls her books to her chest and steps around him. She doesn't make it far down the hall before he runs ahead and stops her in her tracks.

"Whoa whoa whoa, we're not done here, Little Miss Crazypants. Are you trying to tell me you found yourself a new boyfriend in _seven fucking days_?"

She doesn't respond, just lifts her chin and stares at him defiantly.

"Listen, Berry, I could have any chick in this whole goddamn school – Hell, I've _had_ all of 'em – but for reasons I don't fucking understand, it's _your_ midget legs running through all my freaky-deakiest dreams."

"Oh, how _romantic_." She rolls her eyes and pushes past him as he stands in the middle of the hall, watching her go.

---

"Hudson, were you listening to anything I just said?"

"Yeah, yeah, obviously," Finn's fiddling around with a box of candy hearts with _F. Hud_ written on the side in Puck's sloppy scrawl. "Dude, where'd you get these? They're like, even tastier than usual."

Puck snatches the box from his hand and scoffs. "Where I get them every year, dumbass."

"Don't forget to tell Sarah she has awesome taste in candy."

"Dude, _focus_."

Finn sits up straight and stares out across the student lounge, then back at him. "Okay, Puck, seriously? I don't know what to tell you. I have no idea who Rachel's seeing, but to be honest, what does it matter? It's Valentine's Day. All you gotta do is make some grand gesture to show her how much you care, and it'll be like none of this shit ever happened."

"Not all of us are as gay as you, bro. I'm gonna need some backup on this."

"All you have to do is show up at her house with a boombox—"

"First of all, this isn't some shitty eighties movie. Second of all, how many times do I have to tell you? She has a fucking date tonight."

"So then catch her before she leaves school."

"You seriously expect me to get my mojo workin' in two fucking hours?"

"I don't know what mojo is, but if you're saying you can't handle this—"

"What? No. I just…" Puck sighs and looks around for a second before turning back to Finn. "Okay fine, I can't handle this."

"Ah ha!" Finn's pointing and laughing lasts for about five seconds before Puck pushes his hand out of his face.

"Just shut up and get your keys. We're tag teaming this shit." He shoves Finn by the shoulders, pushing him out of the lounge.

"Yo, watch it, this sweatshirt's new!"

---

Their plan is ingenious. Or rather, ingenious by their standards. Finn waits outside of the dance studio five minutes before class lets out. When she comes out from ballet, he distracts her with Glee talk as he leads them to the student lot, where Puck's waiting by his truck in his dopest tuxedo T-shirt with a large Wendy's Frosty and a fake plastic daisy.

"Oh no, I will have absolutely none of this." When she realizes she's been duped yet again, she turns around and shakes her head at Puck's co-conspirator. "Finn Hudson, I expect so much better of you."

Finn just shrugs and high fives Puck. As he jogs back to the building, Rachel lets out a frustrated grumble and Puck takes her by the shoulders.

"C'mon, B. Just five minutes okay?" She contemplates how exactly this could play out before she begrudgingly gets in the car, mumbling to herself all the while. Puck just pumps his fist and laughs as he jogs to the driver's side and ambles in.

She looks at her watch then up at him. "You have exactly four minutes and fifty-nine seconds."

Puck reaches over to hit the play button on his stereo, and Notorious B.I.G. echoes through the speakers. _I love it when you call me big poppa, throw your hands in the air, if you's a true playa…_

"Oh brother—"

"Baby, I know you hate it when I shove you out of my bedroom window and I'm sorry you sprained your wrist, but I know for a fact that I would have been grounded for the next three months if my mom found you—"

"Four minutes and twelve seconds…"

"And honestly, when I told everyone in Glee you were riding the crimson wave, I was doing you a _favor_. I don't know if you realize it, but were a heinous bitch that day, and I didn't want everyone to hate you for having gross chick issues."

"Three minutes and twenty eight seconds…"

"Okay okay okay, enough with the fucking time, just listen," he reaches over and takes her face in his hands and she peers at him suspiciously. "All I'm saying is…I know it makes _no sense_ why a stud like me would be so into a chick like you, but—"

"On that note—" She reaches for the door, but he stops her.

"No wait, just listen, baby," he pulls his guitar from the back and slings the strap over his shoulder. "I didn't want to do something as gay as this, but you're leaving me with no other option." She crosses her arms and raises a suspect eyebrow as he starts to play. "_I don't want anybody else…when I think about you I touch myself, ohhh_—"

"Yeah, we're done here."

"Whatever, Berry," he's frustrated now, so he tosses his guitar back where it was. "You know for a fact that I'm the only dude in this whole fucking town who'd ever put up with your bullshit."

With that, her jaw drops and her eyes glower. "You did _not_ just—"

"Yeah, I said it. Whatcha gonna do?" He tosses her a smarmy grin as she seethes. "Just face it, you're stuck with me. So happy Valentine's Day! Let's get naked." He lunges towards her for a kiss but he's greeted with air as she laughs bitterly and gets out of the car.

She makes it half-way across the parking lot before he catches up with her, a folded sheet of paper in his hand.

"Wait, Berry, just wait—"

"I've heard enough, _Puck_. In fact, in the past five minutes you've confirmed every single reason why we shouldn't be together, so if you don't mind—" She tries to sidestep him, but he blocks her way.

"I know, I'm shit awful at this romance garbage, but I can't help it, okay? I'm a dude, that's just how we are." She stares at him, dispassionate and entirely unconvinced. "And listen, I know I'm the biggest fucking douchebag in this entire school and you can do a million times better than my sorry ass, but—" He looks away, scratching the back of his neck, and laughs. Something in him shifts, and Rachel catches it. He looks back at her and with a tilt of the head and a crooked half smile, he shoves the sheet of paper towards her.

She takes it from him and unfolds it slowly. She's shocked by what she reads, and her eyes brighten.

"But I thought you said—"

"I say a lotta shit I don't mean, Berry. I thought you'd realized that by now."

A smile creeps on her lips as she reads the letter and when she bites her bottom lip, he grins.

"So SUNY Stony Brook is like an hour out of the city, but we could make it work, right?"

She's nodding and tearing up, but when she starts laughing and jumping up and down, he knows he's totally getting laid tonight.

"Noah, _this is amazing_!" She jumps into his arms and he pulls her into a bear hug that lifts her straight off the ground.

"Dude, thank my mom. If she didn't stop bitching about it all the fucking time, I probably wouldn't have even bothered."

She slowly slides down and when her feet meet the ground, she yanks his lips towards hers. When they finally part, she's laughing again, her hands on his face.

"Noah, _you're going to college_."

"Okay cool so it's settled then, right? You, me, pants party in the palace of Puckerone? I'll even have the mama bear feed you."

Her smile fades quickly, replaced by a look he's very familiar with.

"Um, _hello_, I have a date tonight, remember?" When he bursts into laughter, she stares at him, her jaw agape and her hands on her hips.

"Oh God, you're a fucking riot. Just give it up already, B. I can totally tell when you're lying."

"I absolutely _am not_."

He stares at her seriously for a prolonged moment, then bursts into laughter once again.

"Seriously, Berry, _The Notebook_ and Swedish Fish don't count, okay?"

She shakes her head then slings her backpack around and starts digging through. "Ah ha!" She whips her cell phone out and raises it triumphantly before flipping it open. She scrolls through her text messages, then shoves the phone in Puck's face. "See? _I have a date_."

Before she realizes what's happened, he snatches the phone from her hand and races across the parking lot.

"Wha—NOAH PUCKERMAN, YOU WILL COME BACK HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT."

"Yo dude, sorry to break it to you, but Rachel Berry just got busted. Tough break, life sentence. Killed a man. Bound to happen eventually though, am I right or am I right?" He lets out a loud, obnoxious fake laugh before glancing back and yelping a high pitched _shit!_ She chases after him but he's too quick. "Seriously bro, consider yourself lucky. They got her in maximum security, bitch is cray-cray. Hope she doesn't have your address!"

"Taylor, don't listen to this delinquent, I have _not_ been incarcerated!" She calls out.

"What? No, she's not here, that's probably her evil fucking spirit speaking to you from the pen. GET OUT OF TOWN MAN, BEFORE SHE EATS YOUR SOUL."

Just as Puck snaps the phone shut, Rachel launches herself on to his back. Her arms are locked around his shoulders, her face next to his ear.

"I really liked him, Noah."

"More than you like me?"

"Yes. Easily." She rests her chin on his shoulder and sighs. "Why do I even put up with you, Puckerman?"

"I told you, Berry, you're stuck with me," he reaches back and pats her bottom. "Don't ask why, just accept it."

---


	6. At the Movies

**At the Movies**

---

"Listen, Berry, all I'm saying is if that pansy-ass prick from _Singin' in the Rain_ were in a cage fight, like straight up, hardcore deathmatch of doom--"

"You did _not_ just call Gene Kelly a _pansy-ass prick_."

"Gene who?"

She scoffs as they make their way out of the theater and her hand slips effortlessly into his.

"Only one of the greatest showmen to ever _live_--"

"Okay whatever, just listen. If that Danny or Davy or whoever the fuck he was got into throwdown with that guy with the gay-sounding name, he'd totally get his ass _whooped_. Which says a lot."

_This boy's brain is a thing of wonder_, she thinks, _and not in a good way_. None of that matters though because he only made gagging sounds for the first ten minutes of the movie (as opposed to his usual ninety) and now his arm is slung around her shoulders, trapping his warmth against her. It's been months, and yet moments like this still make her feel like what she's living must be some sort of alternate reality. Is she still Rachel Berry? She must be, but sometimes things are so wonderfully _ordinary_, it's hard to tell. (_How did this even happen?_)

She snakes her arms under his jacket, rests her head on his shoulder and laughs.

"You laugh 'cause you know I'm right." They stop at his car, and she smiles up at him, her eyes tired, but bright.

"The intensity with which you've immersed yourself in this medium is really starting to worry me, Noah."

"Yo, Inglés por favor. Puckerone no habla crazy."

"Liar."

"Drama Queen."

"Man Whore."

"...Berry, that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me." He leans in for a kiss and she she smiles against his lips.

---


	7. On the Football Field

**On the Football Field**

---

"How do you even put this—"

"Listen, Berry, just calm down and stop flailing like a fish outta water, okay? All you gotta do is stick your head through the—"

"I can't even see where—"

"_Fuck_, its right _there_—"

"Oh! Got it!"

His padding falls onto her shoulders with a soft thud just as her head pokes out from his jersey. They're standing on the twenty yard line, a case of beer in a cooler at Puck's feet, the buzz of locusts and the damp heat of a sweltering summer day hanging in the night air. She's standing there, drowning in sea of red, her flowery sundress billowing around her legs, longer than what he's used to, but it's breezy and reminds him of summers on Lake Michigan when he was a kid.

Two-a-days are starting in a week but no one's really back from summer vacation yet, so he figures it's the perfect time to get some extra work in. His mom's been putting ridiculous thoughts in his head about recruiters and football scholarships, and having Berry's gold star optimism buzzing in his ear non-stop has only made things worse because now he's actually starting to think, _Maybe_…

She pulls his helmet over her tiny head then holds her arms out to her side, trying to keep balance. He takes a few steps forward and reaches a hand out to steady her.

"Whoa, lookin' a little top-heavy there, champ."

She swats his hand away and he chuckles, feigning surrender.

"It just takes a little getting-used to is all," her voice is muffled behind her hair and the gear, and he swears she's panting a little under the weight— "Now, okay, so…What are the rules again?"

"Oh my God, we're gonna be here all night aren't we?"

"Okay fine, forget it, where's the ball?"

Puck reaches down into his duffel bag, pulls out a football, and tosses it to her. When the ball ricochets off her chest padding and into the grass, he bites his lip to keep from laughing. She reaches down and scoops it up, and her eyes meet his with a mischievous glint.

"So, basically all I have to do is hold on to this ball and run from one end of the field to the other and not let you catch me?"

"Pretty much."

She tosses the ball to herself then looks back at him. "That doesn't seem so hard."

He laughs as he takes a swig of beer then shoves his can in the cooler with the others. "Is that a challenge?"

She stares him down, hopping from foot-to-foot, her mouth hanging open in a goofy grin and he just tilts his head and stares back at her through heavy lids. After a beat, he chuckles.

"Alright babe, you asked for it." He reaches down for the hem of his T-shirt, slings it over his head, and tosses it into his bag. She rolls her eyes as he flexes his guns, his cargo shorts hanging considerably lower than his fire truck boxers.

With the ball under one arm, she stands up straight and puts her hands on her hips. "Excuse me, and how exactly was that necessary in any way?"

"Listen, it's not my problem if you can't resist my hot bod, okay?" He slips his flip flops off and tosses them to the side, but before his toes can even sink into the cool grass, she's off.

"Fuck—You little cheater!"

"I learned from the best!" She tosses the words over her shoulder, already half-way down the field, and he laughs to himself because, _she's kind of right_.

It only takes a couple strides at half-sprint for him to catch up with her. He throws his arms around her waist and she squeals as he spins her around and the ball pops out of her hands.

"Oh shit!" Quickly, he lets go of Rachel, lunges for the ball, and immediately starts heading back downfield.

"Hey! Unnecessary manhandling!" She gasps between giggles, chasing after him. He's doing obnoxious touchdown dances all the way down the field, at one point, turning around to do a backwards running man to the endzone.

"C'mon, B? Show me what you're made of," he taunts, gesturing for her to hit him with all she's got. So she trots towards him before putting her head down and bracing for impact.

The first thing he thinks when his 100-pound waif of a girlfriend barrels into his midsection, is something along the lines of, this-is-the-funniest-shit-I-have-ever-seen-in-my-life. When he realizes he's lying on his back, all the wind knocked out of him, and Rachel frantically pulling the helmet off her head, he sticks his tongue out and plays dead.

"Jesus, Berry. Why didn't you tell me you're secretly an NFL linebacker? Shit."

"Oh my God, Noah, _are you okay_? Should I call 911? Should I—" She's scrambling around looking for her phone but Puck sits up with a grimace and grabs her hands immediately.

"I swear to God, if you tell anyone I got my ass handed to me by a chick,_ we are so done_."

When he settles back onto the grass with a groan, holding his gut, she smiles guiltily.

"Whatever, okay? If you weren't wearing my stupid fucking pads—"

"Excuse me, if you were _wearing a shirt_, then maybe—"

"Because a little piece of cloth would really cushion the blow."

"Oh hush up, you're just a big baby, you know that right?"

He slaps on his sorriest fake pout and points to his abdomen. "Kiss and make it better?"

-

"Are you sure no one's gonna—"

"Trust me, it's just us out here tonight." He fishes a can out of the cooler, snaps it open, and hands it down to her. She takes it gingerly, the cool perspiration a shock on her sweaty palms. She takes a small sip as Puck settles down behind her, positioning her between his legs. She rests her head back against his chest and takes a deep breath. She feels him take a final chug then toss his can to the side. He lifts her hand from his side and places a few ice cubes in them. She smiles as they melt into a little pool in her palm.

"When did you know you wanted to be a football player?" She asks softly. He runs a wet hand down her arm (which she should consider vile, but it keeps the heat away) then pats an indecipherable beat against her waist.

"Fuck if I know. Not all of us have our lives sorted out like you, B." She takes another slow swig and feels his lips against her neck. She smiles.

"I mean…Doesn't everyone have that moment? Where everything kind of clicks?" She lets her eyes drift closed with the lulling warmth of his tongue on her skin.

He pulls back and moves her hair to one side. "I dunno, thinking too far in advance…" He looks off into the distance, then back down at her smooth skin, "sometimes it's hard just to not fuck things up in the here and now, you know?"

He watches her nod her head lazily, the hum of summer and the buzz of his skin putting her to sleep, so he leans his mouth to her ear and whispers something to her, his lips turned up in a conspiratorial grin as her eyes quickly perk open. He leans back, sprawling out on the grass, his hands behind his head. She tosses a suspiciously happy, disapproving glance over her shoulder, and he just puckers his lips and beckons her to him with one finger.

As she settles down beside him, her legs tangled with his, her fingers dancing across his abdomen, she presses a warm kiss on the corner of his mouth.

-

When they pull in front of Rachel's house, she hops out of the car and walks around to the driver's side window. Her dads are sitting on the front porch, drinking tea and pretending not to watch every move their daughter makes. She hangs her arms over Puck's window and he tilts his head towards her.

"You know, the least you could have done was put your shirt back on."

"And deprive your dads of two tickets to the gun show? That just seems wrong."

She rolls her eyes and turns around, about to head towards her fathers when Puck calls her name. She turns back to him, a lazy smile on playing on her lips.

"C'mere." He drawls, motioning to the car with his head.

She walks over and places her arms back in his window, and he just stares up at her, his eyes a wash of lust and green and _wonder_—

He places a gentle hand on her chin, tilting it down and kisses her, warm and full. Her hands flutter softly to his cheeks and stay there before he finally pulls away.

"See you in half an hour?" He whispers with a grin. She shoves his face away and laughs, a skip in her step as she makes her way towards her house.

"I take that as a yes?" He calls out, and she turns around and shrugs with a laugh, then throws him a wink.

---


End file.
